“Do you like white dicks,” I pressed.Sheila laughed.“I guess I had that coming,” she responded.“Yes, you did,” I replied, pressing her for...an answer. “You still didn’t answer my question.”She took another sip from her mimosa and peered back at me from behind the straw.“Yeah,” she replied, “I only like big white dicks and I only hook up with big white dicks I like.”Too-shay.Sheila was a trip, to say the least. I found her intriguing in an odd way. As we chatted, I took note that he wore a simple. After King’s debasement, she no longer fought. This time, she did her best to match Rusty’s rhythm, sliding back against him as he fucked her, her breath getting sharper and sharper, her entire body quivering. Unlike King, Rusty took his time, prolonging his pleasure, until she began to plead."Oh, god, please. I’m so fucking close…" She moaned, not sure if anyone could hear her, or would care, if they did. She felt it burning inside, her climax building, the whiskey coursing through her veins.. More

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